CHAPTER VI.
FOR a quarter of an hour the drawing-room remained empty. At the end ofthat time the council in the boudoir broke up. Lady Lydiard led the wayback into the drawing-room, followed by Hardyman, Isabel being left tolook after the dog. Before the door closed behind him, Hardyman turnedround to reiterate his last medical directions--or, in plainer words, totake a last look at Isabel.
"Plenty of water, Miss Isabel, for the dog to lap, and a little bread orbiscuit, if he wants something to eat. Nothing more, if you please, tillI see him to-morrow."
"Thank you, sir. I will take the greatest care--"
At that point Lady Lydiard cut short the interchange of instructionsand civilities. "Shut the door, if you please, Mr. Hardyman. I feel thedraught. Many thanks! I am really at a loss to tell you how gratefully Ifeel your kindness. But for you my poor little dog might be dead by thistime."
Hardyman answered, in the quiet melancholy monotone which was habitualwith him, "Your Ladyship need feel no further anxiety about the dog.Only be careful not to overfeed him. He will do very well under MissIsabel's care. By the bye, her family name is Miller--is it not? Is sherelated to the Warwickshire Millers of Duxborough House?"
Lady Lydiard looked at him with an expression of satirical surprise."Mr. Hardyman," she said, "this makes the fourth time you havequestioned me about Isabel. You seem to take a great interest in mylittle companion. Don't make any apologies, pray! You pay Isabel acompliment, and, as I am very fond of her, I am naturally gratified whenI find her admired. At the same time," she added, with one of her abrupttransitions of language, "I had my eye on you, and I had my eye on her,when you were talking in the next room; and I don't mean to let you makea fool of the girl. She is not in your line of life, and the sooner youknow it the better. You make me laugh when you ask if she is related togentlefolks. She is the orphan daughter of a chemist in the country. Herrelations haven't a penny to bless themselves with, except an old aunt,who lives in a village on two or three hundred a year. I heard of thegirl by accident. When she lost her father and mother, her aunt offeredto take her. Isabel said, 'No, thank you; I will not be a burden ona relation who has only enough for herself. A girl can earn an honestliving if she tries; and I mean to try'--that's what she said. I admiredher independence," her Ladyship proceeded, ascending again to the higherregions of thought and expression. "My niece's marriage, just at thattime, had left me alone in this great house. I proposed to Isabel tocome to me as companion and reader for a few weeks, and to decide forherself whether she liked the life or not. We have never been separatedsince that time. I could hardly be fonder of her if she were my owndaughter; and she returns my affection with all her heart. She hasexcellent qualities--prudent, cheerful, sweet-tempered; with good senseenough to understand what her place is in the world, as distinguishedfrom her place in my regard. I have taken care, for her own sake, neverto leave that part of the question in any doubt. It would be cruelkindness to deceive her as to her future position when she marries. Ishall take good care that the man who pays his addresses to her is a manin her rank of life. I know but too well, in the case of one of my ownrelatives, what miseries unequal marriages bring with them. Excuse mefor troubling you at this length on domestic matters. I am very fondof Isabel; and a girl's head is so easily turned. Now you know what herposition really is, you will also know what limits there must be to theexpression of your interest in her. I am sure we understand each other;and I say no more."
Hardyman listened to this long harangue with the immovable gravity whichwas part of his character--except when Isabel had taken him by surprise.When her Ladyship gave him the opportunity of speaking on his side,he had very little to say, and that little did not suggest that he hadgreatly profited by what he had heard. His mind had been full of Isabelwhen Lady Lydiard began, and it remained just as full of her, in justthe same way, when Lady Lydiard had done.
"Yes," he remarked quietly, "Miss Isabel is an uncommonly nice girl, asyou say. Very pretty, and such frank, unaffected manners. I don't denythat I feel an interest in her. The young ladies one meets in societyare not much to my taste. Miss Isabel is my taste."
Lady Lydiard's face assumed a look of blank dismay. "I am afraid I havefailed to convey my exact meaning to you," she said.
Hardyman gravely declared that he understood her perfectly. "Perfectly!"he repeated, with his impenetrable obstinacy. "Your Ladyship exactlyexpresses my opinion of Miss Isabel. Prudent, and cheerful, andsweet-tempered, as you say--all the qualities in a woman that I admire.With good looks, too--of course, with good looks. She will be a perfecttreasure (as you remarked just now) to the man who marries her. I mayclaim to know something about it. I have twice narrowly escaped beingmarried myself; and, though I can't exactly explain it, I'm all theharder to please in consequence. Miss Isabel pleases me. I think Ihave said that before? Pardon me for saying it again. I'll call againto-morrow morning and look at the dog as early as eleven o'clock, if youwill allow me. Later in the day I must be off to France to attend a saleof horses. Glad to have been of any use to your Ladyship, I am sure.Good-morning."
Lady Lydiard let him go, wisely resigning any further attempt toestablish an understanding between her visitor and herself.
"He is either a person of very limited intelligence when he is away fromhis stables," she thought, "or he deliberately declines to take a plainhint when it is given to him. I can't drop his acquaintance, on Tommie'saccount. The only other alternative is to keep Isabel out of his way. Mygood little girl shall not drift into a false position while I am livingto look after her. When Mr. Hardyman calls to-morrow she shall be outon an errand. When he calls the next time she shall be upstairs with aheadache. And if he tries it again she shall be away at my house in thecountry. If he makes any remarks on her absence--well, he will find thatI can be just as dull of understanding as he is when the occasion callsfor it."
Having arrived at this satisfactory solution of the difficulty, LadyLydiard became conscious of an irresistible impulse to summon Isabel toher presence and caress her. In the nature of a warm-hearted woman,this was only the inevitable reaction which followed the subsidence ofanxiety about the girl, after her own resolution had set that anxiety atrest. She threw open the door and made one of her sudden appearances atthe boudoir. Even in the fervent outpouring of her affection, there wasstill the inherent abruptness of manner which so strongly marked LadyLydiard's character in all the relations of life.
"Did I give you a kiss, this morning?" she asked, when Isabel rose toreceive her.
"Yes, my Lady," said the girl, with her charming smile.
"Come, then, and give me a kiss in return. Do you love me? Very well,then, treat me like your mother. Never mind 'my lady' this time. Give mea good hug!"
Something in those homely words, or something perhaps in the look thataccompanied them, touched sympathies in Isabel which seldom showedthemselves on the surface. Her smiling lips trembled, the bright tearsrose in her eyes. "You are too good to me," she murmured, with her headon Lady Lydiard's bosom. "How can I ever love you enough in return?"
Lady Lydiard patted the pretty head that rested on her with such filialtenderness. "There! there!" she said, "Go back and play with Tommie, mydear. We may be as fond of each other as we like; but we mustn't cry.God bless you! Go away--go away!"
She turned aside quickly; her own eyes were moistening, and it was partof her character to be reluctant to let Isabel see it. "Why have I madea fool of myself?" she wondered, as she approached the drawing-roomdoor. "It doesn't matter. I am all the better for it. Odd, that Mr.Hardyman should have made me feel fonder of Isabel than ever!"
With those reflections she re-entered the drawing-room--and suddenlychecked herself with a start. "Good Heavens!" she exclaimed irritably,"how you frightened me! Why was I not told you were here?"
Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiard on herreturn found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman, mysteriouslyplanted on the hearth-rug in her absence. The
new visitor may be rightlydescribed as a gray man. He had gray hair, eyebrows, and whiskers; hewore a gray coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and gray gloves. Forthe rest, his appearance was eminently suggestive of wealth andrespectability and, in this case, appearances were really to be trusted.The gray man was no other than Lady Lydiard's legal adviser, Mr. Troy.
"I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so unfortunate as to startleyou," he said, with a certain underlying embarrassment in his manner."I had the honor of sending word by Mr. Moody that I would call at thishour, on some matters of business connected with your Ladyship's houseproperty. I presumed that you expected to find me here, waiting yourpleasure--"
Thus far Lady Lydiard had listened to her legal adviser, fixing her eyeson his face in her usually frank, straightforward way. She now stoppedhim in the middle of a sentence, with a change of expression in her ownface which was undisguisedly a change to alarm.
"Don't apologize, Mr. Troy," she said. "I am to blame for forgettingyour appointment and for not keeping my nerves under proper control."She paused for a moment and took a seat before she said her next words."May I ask," she resumed, "if there is something unpleasant in thebusiness that brings you here?"
"Nothing whatever, my Lady; mere formalities, which can wait tillto-morrow or next day, if you wish it."
Lady Lydiard's fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "You have knownme long enough, Mr. Troy, to know that I cannot endure suspense. You_have_ something unpleasant to tell me."
The lawyer respectfully remonstrated. "Really, Lady Lydiard!--" hebegan.
"It won't do, Mr. Troy! I know how you look at me on ordinary occasions,and I see how you look at me now. You are a very clever lawyer; but,happily for the interests that I commit to your charge, you are also athoroughly honest man. After twenty years' experience of you, you can'tdeceive _me_. You bring me bad news. Speak at once, sir, and speakplainly."
Mr. Troy yielded--inch by inch, as it were. "I bring news which, I fear,may annoy your Ladyship." He paused, and advanced another inch. "It isnews which I only became acquainted with myself on entering this house."
He waited again, and made another advance. "I happened to meet yourLadyship's steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall--"
"Where is he?" Lady Lydiard interposed angrily. "I can make _him_ speakout, and I will. Send him here instantly."
The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure a littlelonger. "Mr. Moody will be here directly," he said. "Mr. Moody requestedme to prepare your Ladyship--"
"Will you ring the bell, Mr. Troy, or must I?"
Moody had evidently been waiting outside while the lawyer spoke for him.He saved Mr. Troy the trouble of ringing the bell by presenting himselfin the drawing-room. Lady Lydiard's eyes searched his face as heapproached. Her bright complexion faded suddenly. Not a word more passedher lips. She looked, and waited.
In silence on his part, Moody laid an open sheet of paper on the table.The paper quivered in his trembling hand.
Lady Lydiard recovered herself first. "Is that for me?" she asked.
"Yes, my Lady."
She took up the paper without an instant's hesitation. Both the menwatched her anxiously as she read it.
The handwriting was strange to her. The words were these:--
"I hereby certify that the bearer of these lines, Robert Moody by name,has presented to me the letter with which he was charged, addressed tomyself, with the seal intact. I regret to add that there is, to say theleast of it, some mistake. The inclosure referred to by the anonymouswriter of the letter, who signs 'a friend in need,' has not reached me.No five-hundred pound bank-note was in the letter when I opened it.My wife was present when I broke the seal, and can certify to thisstatement if necessary. Not knowing who my charitable correspondent is(Mr. Moody being forbidden to give me any information), I can only takethis means of stating the case exactly as it stands, and hold myself atthe disposal of the writer of the letter. My private address is at thehead of the page.--Samuel Bradstock, Rector, St. Anne's, Deansbury,London."
Lady Lydiard dropped the paper on the table. For the moment, plainly asthe Rector's statement was expressed, she appeared to be incapable ofunderstanding it. "What, in God's name, does this mean?" she asked.
The lawyer and the steward looked at each other. Which of the two wasentitled to speak first? Lady Lydiard gave them no time to decide."Moody," she said sternly, "you took charge of the letter--I look to youfor an explanation."
Moody's dark eyes flashed. He answered Lady Lydiard without caring toconceal that he resented the tone in which she had spoken to him.
"I undertook to deliver the letter at its address," he said. "I foundit, sealed, on the table. Your Ladyship has the clergyman's writtentestimony that I handed it to him with the seal unbroken. I have done myduty; and I have no explanation to offer."
Before Lady Lydiard could speak again, Mr. Troy discreetly interfered.He saw plainly that his experience was required to lead theinvestigation in the right direction.
"Pardon me, my Lady," he said, with that happy mixture of the positiveand the polite in his manner, of which lawyers alone possess the secret."There is only one way of arriving at the truth in painful matters ofthis sort. We must begin at the beginning. May I venture to ask yourLadyship a question?"
Lady Lydiard felt the composing influence of Mr. Troy. "I am at yourdisposal, sir," she said, quietly.
"Are you absolutely certain that you inclosed the bank-note in theletter?" the lawyer asked.
"I certainly believe I inclosed it," Lady Lydiard answered. "But I was soalarmed at the time by the sudden illness of my dog, that I do not feeljustified in speaking positively."
"Was anybody in the room with your Ladyship when you put the inclosurein the letter--as you believe?"
"_I_ was in the room," said Moody. "I can swear that I saw her Ladyshipput the bank-note in the letter, and the letter in the envelope."
"And seal the envelope?" asked Mr. Troy.
"No, sir. Her Ladyship was called away into the next room to the dog,before she could seal the envelope."
Mr. Troy addressed himself once more to Lady Lydiard. "Did your Ladyshiptake the letter into the next room with you?"
"I was too much alarmed to think of it, Mr. Troy. I left it here, on thetable."
"With the envelope open?"
"Yes."
"How long were you absent in the other room?"
"Half an hour or more."
"Ha!" said Mr. Troy to himself. "This complicates it a little." Hereflected for a while, and then turned again to Moody. "Did any of theservants know of this bank-note being in her Ladyship's possession?"
"Not one of them," Moody answered.
"Do you suspect any of the servants?"
"Certainly not, sir."
"Are there any workmen employed in the house?"
"No, sir."
"Do you know of any persons who had access to the room while LadyLydiard was absent from it?"
"Two visitors called, sir."
"Who were they?"
"Her Ladyship's nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir, and the Honorable AlfredHardyman."
Mr. Troy shook his head irritably. "I am not speaking of gentlemen ofhigh position and repute," he said. "It's absurd even to mention Mr.Sweetsir and Mr. Hardyman. My question related to strangers who mighthave obtained access to the drawing-room--people calling, with herLadyship's sanction, for subscriptions, for instance; or people callingwith articles of dress or ornament to be submitted to her Ladyship'sinspection."
"No such persons came to the house with my knowledge," Moody answered.
Mr. Troy suspended the investigation, and took a turn thoughtfully inthe room. The theory on which his inquiries had proceeded thus far hadfailed to produce any results. His experience warned him to wasteno more time on it, and to return to the starting-point of theinvestigation--in other words, to the letter. Shifting his point ofview, he turned again to Lady Lydiard, and tried his questions in a newdirection.
/>
"Mr. Moody mentioned just now," he said, "that your Ladyship was calledinto the next room before you could seal your letter. On your return tothis room, did you seal the letter?"
"I was busy with the dog," Lady Lydiard answered. "Isabel Miller was ofno use in the boudoir, and I told her to seal it for me."
Mr. Troy started. The new direction in which he was pushing hisinquiries began to look like the right direction already. "Miss IsabelMiller," he proceeded, "has been a resident under your Ladyship's rooffor some little time, I believe?"
"For nearly two years, Mr. Troy."
"As your Ladyship's companion and reader?"
"As my adopted daughter," her Ladyship answered, with marked emphasis.
Wise Mr. Troy rightly interpreted the emphasis as a warning to him tosuspend the examination of her Ladyship, and to address to Mr. Moody thefar more serious questions which were now to come.
"Did anyone give you the letter before you left the house with it?" hesaid to the steward. "Or did you take it yourself?"
"I took it myself, from the table here."
"Was it sealed?"
"Yes."
"Was anybody present when you took the letter from the table?"
"Miss Isabel was present."
"Did you find her alone in the room?"
"Yes, sir."
Lady Lydiard opened her lips to speak, and checked herself. Mr. Troy,having cleared the ground before him, put the fatal question.
"Mr. Moody," he said, "when Miss Isabel was instructed to seal theletter, did she know that a bank-note was inclosed in it?"
Instead of replying, Robert drew back from the lawyer with a look ofhorror. Lady Lydiard started to her feet--and checked herself again, onthe point of speaking.
"Answer him, Moody," she said, putting a strong constraint on herself.
Robert answered very unwillingly. "I took the liberty of remindingher ladyship that she had left her letter unsealed," he said. "AndI mentioned as my excuse for speaking,"--he stopped, and correctedhimself--"_I believe_ I mentioned that a valuable inclosure was in theletter."
"You believe?" Mr. Troy repeated. "Can't you speak more positively thanthat?"
"_I_ can speak positively," said Lady Lydiard, with her eyes on thelawyer. "Moody did mention the inclosure in the letter--in IsabelMiller's hearing as well as in mine." She paused, steadily controllingherself. "And what of that, Mr. Troy?" she added, very quietly andfirmly.
Mr. Troy answered quietly and firmly, on his side. "I am surprised thatyour Ladyship should ask the question," he said.
"I persist in repeating the question," Lady Lydiard rejoined. "I saythat Isabel Miller knew of the inclosure in my letter--and I ask, Whatof that?"
"And I answer," retorted the impenetrable lawyer, "that the suspicion oftheft rests on your Ladyship's adopted daughter, and on nobody else."
"It's false!" cried Robert, with a burst of honest indignation. "I wishto God I had never said a word to you about the loss of the bank-note!Oh, my Lady! my Lady! don't let him distress you! What does _he_ knowabout it?"
"Hush!" said Lady Lydiard. "Control yourself, and hear what he has tosay." She rested her hand on Moody's shoulder, partly to encouragehim, partly to support herself; and, fixing her eyes again on Mr. Troy,repeated his last words, "'Suspicion rests on my adopted daughter, andon nobody else.' Why on nobody else?"
"Is your Ladyship prepared to suspect the Rector of St. Anne's ofembezzlement, or your own relatives and equals of theft?" Mr. Troyasked. "Does a shadow of doubt rest on the servants? Not if Mr. Moody'sevidence is to be believed. Who, to our own certain knowledge, hadaccess to the letter while it was unsealed? Who was alone in the roomwith it? And who knew of the inclosure in it? I leave the answer to yourLadyship."
"Isabel Miller is as incapable of an act of theft as I am. There is myanswer, Mr. Troy."
The lawyer bowed resignedly, and advanced to the door.
"Am I to take your Ladyship's generous assertion as finally disposing ofthe question of the lost bank-note?" he inquired.
Lady Lydiard met the challenge without shrinking from it.
"No!" she said. "The loss of the bank-note is known out of my house.Other persons may suspect this innocent girl as you suspect her. It isdue to Isabel's reputation--her unstained reputation, Mr. Troy!--thatshe should know what has happened, and should have an opportunity ofdefending herself. She is in the next room, Moody. Bring her here."
Robert's courage failed him: he trembled at the bare idea of exposingIsabel to the terrible ordeal that awaited her. "Oh, my Lady!" hepleaded, "think again before you tell the poor girl that she issuspected of theft. Keep it a secret from her--the shame of it willbreak her heart!"
"Keep it a secret," said Lady Lydiard, "when the Rector and the Rector'swife both know of it! Do you think they will let the matter rest whereit is, even if I could consent to hush it up? I must write to them;and I can't write anonymously after what has happened. Put yourself inIsabel's place, and tell me if you would thank the person who knew youto be innocently exposed to a disgraceful suspicion, and who concealedit from you? Go, Moody! The longer you delay, the harder it will be."
With his head sunk on his breast, with anguish written in every lineof his face, Moody obeyed. Passing slowly down the short passage whichconnected the two rooms, and still shrinking from the duty that hadbeen imposed on him, he paused, looking through the curtains which hungover the entrance to the boudoir.